


Rise of the Guardians - Eureka

by Phantom Sparrow (spARROWsENDER)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-22 02:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spARROWsENDER/pseuds/Phantom%20Sparrow
Summary: After his failed showdown with the Guardians, Pitch has to keep up his performance as the Boogieman. But none of the Legends take him seriously. None, but one. The kind and generous Eureka, Legend of creativity, ideas and imagination, treats him just like she did before. Pitch never noticed her kind actions, but now that he has fallen all the way to the ground, is curious to find out why she, of all Legends, has decided not to percieve him as a villain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, go easy on me. It's my first time publishing and I don't really know how this works yet.  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Also, I'm still not certain about the outcome of this story. Should I go with a romance, or keep it at friendship and redemption? You can always give me tips!

What am I?  
I am what hits you when you have an idea. I am what makes people jump up and shout out in victory: “that’s it!”. I am the source of all imagination, for both children and adults. I am the spark in your brain that makes all the thinking worthwhile. I am the invention, the light, I am the moment that tells you what you want and what you need to do.  
I am a Legend.  
I go by many names. Imagination. Muse. Idea. Inspiration. Enlightenment. But I mostly answer to the name of Eureka. How do I know? The moon told me. That’s all he ever told me though. I didn’t understand right away why I was there. I remembered who I was before, but I didn’t remember how I came to be a Legend. All I knew, was that I was invisible, and that I could sense when people were missing something, when they needed a little push to find what they wanted. All I needed to do was to touch them, sometimes even just whisper something in their ear or talk to them. And then they would have what they need, and I could carry on with my endless wandering.  
The first time I woke up, I was in the middle of ruins. There was destruction everywhere. Fires were licking my feet and my hair, yet I was cold. I was scared. I stood up and ran in the first direction I found. I ran up the stairs, until there were none left, and I stood at the top of a destroyed tower. But I wasn’t scared anymore, because in the black sky stood the moon. Big, beautiful and bright. He told me everything was okay, and that I was there for a reason. That I was there to help people. I believed him.  
That was a long time ago. I have now taken a liking to who I am, and to what I do. I’ve learned to manage my powers, I’ve learned to deal with the fact that no one can see me. I am me. And I like me this way.

Of course, there are a few other things that come along with the job that you just have to get used to. Like sometimes, simply not being able to help someone, due to being too stuck, too inaccessible or just straight down too dumb. Another thing to get used to are the colleagues. I know what you’re thinking: who does a Legend such as Eureka have to work with in her line of work? Well, surprisingly, Imagination and Creativity go hand in hand with Fear and Stress. That’s right. Pitch Black. The Boogieman. I have to admit, the first time we met, face to face, each of us standing near a young girl trying to draw, was quite an interesting encounter. We ended up introducing each other and tried to set each other boundaries, sometimes in more “aggressive” ways. The poor girl sat in front of a blank paper for at least an hour.  
Now, we’ve both accepted each other. I wouldn’t go as far as to say we’ve taken a liking to each other, but we’ve learned how to do our jobs, whilst staying out of each other’s ways but still be capable of dialogue without getting violent. Big events such as Academy Awards (for either film, theatre or music, you name it) are big favourites for the both of us. I’m attracted to all the brilliant minds in one place, he’s attracted to the fear and stress of the losers. A strange, if not morbid balance, but it works and it’s necessary.  
Altogether, it’s not so bad working with him. He procures the level of fear and stress that pushes people to succeed or fail, whilst I give them the inspiration and ideas to work towards what they want. Both are a necessity, a balance to be maintained. We both understand that. And that is why Pitch isn’t a villain in my book. He is a necessary evil, despite himself, and a man who has all my respect.

That is, until he pulled that stunt where he tried to get rid of the Guardians. In a way, I understood why he tried. It mustn’t be easy to be the man in charge of scaring people, which is generally judged to be a bad thing. So, when it is literally the only thing you are capable of, people quickly tend to think of you as evil. Pitch himself, however, didn’t really help dismantle the situation either, since he completely gave in to the idea that he might be seen, and in his own, perverted way, loved. His desperation for a family, for love, for just being seen, led him to believe that power could grant him what he craved, and his despair made him fall for his temptation.  
I didn’t blame him for what he did, but I sure as Hell wasn’t going to let my guard down next time he showed up to make someone back out of a painting.

The first we saw of each other after his little stunt, wasn’t in front of a painting however. It was at the Oscars. Of all events, he chose one of the biggest movie awards events of the year to come back. When I sensed his presence, part of me was surprised. I half didn’t expect him to show up anywhere for a while, gathering time to gain back what was left of his honour or dignity, or both. But no, there he was, Pitch Black never disappoints.  
I was standing inside the hall where the spectacle would take place, slowly filling up. I had found a little spot, almost a balcony, behind one of the decorations close to the roof. I had taken a liking to the spot and usually sat there before the ceremony started, observing all those people seen as Gods have the most Human conversations.  
In the early years of my debut as a Legend, Pitch and I would usually glare at each other from our own respective balconies, as if two cats fighting for a spot to sleep on with a staring contest. Within the decade however, Pitch and I had more and more encounters, some of them more violent than others, and somehow got used to each other’s presence. We ended up sharing one and the same balcony, from which we both spotted our targets. There would usually be some sassy dialogue between the two of us, before heading out and do our jobs. The first years, the dialogue was meant, but after a while, it just became some sort of encouraging game before the long night we had ahead of us. We weren’t friends. We just didn’t want to kill each other right off the bat.

When a slight shiver came over me, starting at my spine and going all the way up to my neck, a small grin cracked my face.  
“Hello, Pitch. It’s been a while.”  
“Eureka.”  
Oh Pitch. Always so simple and bland.  
“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight. I’ve already spotted quite a few down there who were itching like nobody’s business and you hadn’t even arrived yet.”  
“Hm.”  
‘Hm’? Oh come on Pitch, you can do better than that. You’ve given me way worse on the eve of the Oscars. And I haven’t even actually turned my head to look at you!


	2. Chapter 2

Pitch was not in the mood. Not at all. After his failed showdown with the Guardians (and especially Jack Frost) showing up anywhere at all, unless absolutely necessary, was out of the question. He felt humiliated, weak. How was he supposed to keep being the Boogieman? How was he supposed to keep being Pitch Black, the Pitch Black after what happened? His powerlessness was infuriating. Almost everywhere he went, other Legends wouldn’t take him seriously. They would mock him, ask how his nightmares (those damned things) were doing, if he was looking for another butt-kicking occasion, if he was feeling hot and needed some ‘cooling off’. Blast them. Curse those damned Guardians. Curse Jack Frost.  
When Pitch decided to attend the Oscars to blow off some steam, the faintest idea that another Legend would be there hadn’t even crossed his mind. What do you want? When a mouse in France just laughed itself to pieces after seeing you trying to scare it, it’s not exactly the first thing you think about. From the moment he emerged from the shadows on the usual spot he appears, he wanted to vanish right back into them.  
Eureka.  
He’d forgotten about Eureka.  
What was he thinking? Of course she would be there. She was the spark of inspiration itself. She was the embodiment of creativity, the light that led all those geniuses, artists and world-renowned writers to their glory. Why in the world would she miss such an occasion as the Oscars?  
As soon as he took form in their usual place, he knew he couldn’t b(l)ack out. Eureka had an extraordinary awareness of her surroundings and could sense whenever a Legend came close. Or at least, she could sense when he came close. He could feel her grin.  
“Hello, Pitch. It’s been a while.”  
She said in a proper British accent. It seemed like ages since Pitch had last seen her, but then again it might have something to do with the ordeal he traversed when his nightmares turned on him. She hadn’t changed at all, however.  
“Eureka.”  
Pitch said, slowly walking towards the end of the balcony, slowly making his way to her left side. He tried to sound as neutral and as uninterested as possible, he didn’t want her to see that what he was actually feeling, was shame.  
“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight. I’ve already spotted quite a few down there who were itching like nobody’s business and you hadn’t even arrived yet.”  
In usual situations, Pitch would at least grin to such a comment. Or maybe pull up either side of his mouth ever so slightly. This time, there was none of that. Still focused on misleading her, he didn’t move a muscle. The only movement he made, was when he slightly exhaled and made a bored sound along with it.  
“Hm.”  
But now came the hard part. The exchange so far, had happened blindly. Neither had looked at the other. But after the sound he just made, Pitch was guaranteed to receive sighting. From the corner of his eye, Pitch saw her head turn. Along with her head came her body. North’s beard, why was this so hard? Pitch turned his head as well, and met Eureka’s eyes. If he were capable of it, he would’ve been startled.  
If Eureka was known among the Legends for other reasons than being the embodiment of creativity, those reasons were her eyes. They were magnificent. They shone like stars at night. The most accurate way to describe them, would be to say that a rainbow had merged with the northern lights and then been imprisoned in the two, small little globes in her head. Pitch had almost forgotten about her eyes, and was taken slightly off guard when he looked at her. He had forgotten how incredibly beautiful her eyes were. He also thought to himself that he didn’t look her in the eyes often enough. He quickly got rid of the thought he just had and widened his view.  
She truly hadn’t changed. She was still wearing the same outfit: a loose, white shirt showing her shoulders, with very wide sleeves. The shirt reached to her thighs, where some sort of pants of the same, white-greyish colour as her shirt started. They ended around her calves, where the pants seemed to dissolve into her pale skin, much like his outfit did with his. She was barefoot, as always. Her hair was short but wild and of a pure, ginger colour. In her movement, her shirt moved, and in the shirt, Pitch could see the bland white change into a splatter of colours, as if some gasoline had been spread all over her shirt and reflected in all directions. Those splatters of colours were there every time her shirt moved. Instead of being covered in shadows, like anyone else, Eureka was covered in colours.  
“Sheesh, such enthusiasm.”  
“Don’t start, Eureka, I am not in the mood.”  
“Oh come on. Not even one small ‘cover up your shirt, there’s too much colour to my liking’?”  
She mimicked him surprisingly well. Even the posture and the bothered look on his face were spot on. He kept back a smile and rolled his eyes instead.  
“At least give me a ‘stay away from me, rainbow, you are far too happy to my liking’.”  
This time, Pitch grinned. He remembered that one; Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 1973.  
“If you come any closer with your happiness, I will catch a cold, Eureka. Stay away.”  
“There we go! Now the Oscars have officially begun.”  
Pitch rolled his eyes once more, but was glad he had satisfied her need for a sassy comment on her behaviour. She turned away from him again, and he could exhale.  
“I’m getting a lot of vibes coming from the left side, mind if I start there?”  
She asked. He slightly turned his head and smiled politely as he nodded his head.  
“Not at all. I’ll start with the right side then.”  
She nodded back and stepped off the balcony. Pitch waited a few moments and watched her fly towards the left side of the hall, graceful as ever. He then disappeared into the shadows behind him, to resurface as a shadow underneath a table, somewhere along the right side of the hall. A simple, soft touch to one of the man’s feet was enough to make him sweaty and a few shades paler. Pitch emerged from the shadows among the tables and looked around, looking for his next target. On the other side of the hall, he saw Eureka jump from one table to another. Most of the time she would simple kneel down in front of the person and slightly touch their cheek with the back of her hand, resulting in a smile appearing on their face or either look down and scribble something on a piece of paper, probably their acceptance speech. Other times, she would put two delicate fingers on a glass of alcohol one of the celebrities was holding (one even had his personal flask with him) and gently put it back down on the table, saying it was a little bit too early for that. She once also stopped mid-flight while passing a table, slightly surprised by something only she could hear. She would approach the gentleman and say something in his ear:  
“Now now, that is no way to think of your colleagues.”  
Long story short, she was spreading good ideas and mindfulness all-round, while Pitch was making some poor buggers’ hands shaky.  
When they were both done with their side, they switched. When they crossed, Pitch could no longer resist and asked:  
“Eureka? Why are you not afraid?”  
She stopped in her flight. Upside down.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Why aren’t you afraid?”  
“Pitch, please, we’ve been working together for what, 60 years now? I’m not afraid of you.”  
She turned herself around, this time her head being on top of things again.  
“Not even after… What I’ve done? The Guardians, Sandman, the children…”  
“You tried and you failed. Don’t get me wrong, what you did wasn’t exactly the smartest thing in the world, but I’m not going to blame you for it.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because. It’s not your fault.”  
“Why would you believe that?”  
Pitch was almost disappointed when he asked the last question. Eureka smiled and flew towards another table to carry out her magic.  
“Because, it really isn’t. You didn’t choose to be the Boogieman, just like I didn’t choose to be Eureka. None of the Legends chose their task, their powers. The only thing they choose is what they would make of it. I decided to accept the way I was, even though sometimes I don’t always like it. Just like you chose to shape yourself a certain way. And like most Legends, you shaped yourself after what you were supposed to be. North is Santa Claus, he sees wonder everywhere, he’s almost childish. Tooth loves teeth, Sandman is a quiet dreamer, Bunny loves Easter and Spring, Jack loves the snow and the fun you can have in it. Just like all of them, you shaped yourself to fit your powers. You were the Boogieman. You needed to be feared. I mean, look at you, even your look screams fear.”  
Pitch looked down to his clothes, momentarily interrupted from his hypnotic listening to Eureka’s dialogue and slightly offended. He liked the way he looked.  
“You thought you needed to fit a certain box. And the fact that you were fear itself, unfortunately made you a little unpopular. And that’s kind of the other Legends’ fault. Fear is usually a bad thing, so they painted you off as bad too. And in the vicious spiral you were. They saw you as bad, so you were bad to them, etcetera etcetera. They pushed you further and further, until you couldn’t handle it anymore. I understand what you were trying to accomplish, I just don’t agree with the way you tried to do it. I mean, you have to admit, ruling in fear? Kind of an excessive reaction, don’t you think?”  
“How else was I supposed to get what I want?”  
Pitch nearly spat it out. He still didn’t have his answer. Trying to rule in fear was clearly a bust, as previously shown, but then how? How was he going to be appreciated?  
Eureka stopped flying around and flew towards him. Pitch backed away a little when she came closer. Eureka pinched her eyes together and looked at him. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rude. When she was only a few inches away from him, her expression suddenly changed back to her merry old self.  
“Well, ruling in fear clearly isn’t going to work, so try something else. Might I suggest something less ‘dominate the world’-style?”  
She turned around in flight again. She stared at him, her (upside down) eyes stared at him with confidence. Pitch was at a loss of words. Did she just give him a suggestion to get what he wanted? Was she offering to help him? No one had ever done that.  
“I… What do you propose then?”  
She started flying around him, still upside down.  
“Maybe, instead of just forcing people to like you, you should try asking them first.”  
“I can’t just ask them to like me, I’m Pitch Black. Besides, they’ll never accept me.”  
“And why would you say that?”  
She turned her head to the side, like a confused puppy.  
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m the Boogieman, the one who hides under children’s beds, the one who makes everyone afraid!”  
“No, that’s your power, and your task. And yes, people are afraid of the Boogieman, and good for them. But what you need to find out is if the Boogieman and Pitch Black are one and the same.”  
“Of course we’re the same. I’m him!”  
“Says who?”  
“Everyone!”  
“I don’t.”  
Once more, Pitch was at a loss of words. He couldn’t tell if she was stubborn or just straight down stupid.  
“You’re not that bad of a guy you think you are, Pitch. I can see that. Why can’t you?”  
She looked back to the right side, and deemed she was finished with her work. She looked back to Pitch one more time, smiled, then turned herself the right way up again and flew away, going through the roof and disappear. Pitch stood alone on the table, where drinks were being served through him. He looked down at his feet, where people were grabbing drinks from the tray. He looked around, to the left side, but didn’t feel like scaring people anymore. He disappeared through the table and used a shadow to make his way out of the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those having a bad time visualising what Eureka might look like, I made a sketch of what she should resemble.  
> Keep in mind that I am not an excellent drawer and that the quality of the camera isn't brilliant either.  
> https://i62.servimg.com/u/f62/19/28/58/61/aae58a10.jpg  
> Thank you once more for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

A few days later, inside his lair, Pitch was getting ready to get out there and scare people, when he suddenly felt an intruder inside his domain. He sighed in annoyance.  
“Whoever you are, I have no time for your mockeries, so get out of here before I make you!”  
Someone flew out of the shadows. A smile was piercing her face.  
“What a warm welcoming comity, such colours, such happiness!”  
She said sarcastically.  
“Eureka? What are you doing here?”  
“You know, you can be despised for being the Boogieman all you want, one thing that no one can take away is your sense of punctuality. This is about the time you go out to scare people, correct?”  
“Yes.”  
Pitch said reluctantly.  
“If you don’t mind, I would like to point you towards your first target for tonight.”  
“I know perfectly well where to find my victims, thank you. I don’t need your help.”  
“Victims huh?”  
Pitch didn’t answer. He readjusted his coat, although it technically didn’t need any. She flew closer to him.  
“Oh come on. I’d like to show you something. If you’re not convinced, I’ll leave and you can carry on with your work.”  
Pitch was still hesitant, and showed it by frowning deeply.  
“Please. The worst that can happen is that you’re right and I’m wrong.”  
“Fine.”  
He pouted. She smiled again.  
“Great. Follow me!”  
And she flew up one of the holes. Pitch rolled his eyes but followed her. He emerged in England, somewhere on the outskirts of London. From afar, he could hear Big Ben announce 4 a.m. He caught a glimpse of Eureka flying above one of the buildings. He joined her on the roof. As she approached the side of it, Pitch stayed more in the middle of the roof and asked:  
“Eureka, what are we doing here?”  
“What kind of question is that, Pitch? You’re here to do a job, are you not? Don’t you sense it?”  
Pitch was about to answer, but then he sensed it, just as Eureka had foretold:  
Fear.  
He approached the side of the roof as well and bent over. He saw a small street, barely lit, with a young woman walking through it. She was wearing high heels, and clothes that showed she was coming home early from a good night out with the ladies in central London. Her pace was accelerated, she was slightly out of breath. Behind her was walking a rather tall man, his features indistinguishable and clothed in black. His pace was also accelerated. The two figures were the only ones on the street. Pitch’s eyes glowed yellow and a sneer formed on his face.  
“Fear.”  
He said, with a predatory look. Eureka didn’t seem to be scared by his sudden change in attitude. Not that Pitch was paying any attention to her. The smell of fear, mixed together with sweat and the irregular sound the woman’s breath was producing, was intoxicating for Pitch. He vanished into a shadow and swirled down a lamppost, which immediately went out upon contact with him. The woman was startled by the sudden lack of light and accelerated her pace even more. As Pitch took form next to her, Eureka joined him by flying down the building. Pitch had only eyes for the woman, looking at her like a predator looked at its prey. Eureka remained very calm and looked at Pitch with what seemed to be a glow of sweetness in her eyes.  
“Well, what are you waiting for?”  
She asked. For one small second, Pitch was slightly distracted from the woman. He usually did these type of things on his own. But when a gust of wind brought the smell of fear back to his nostrils, he lost focus on her and looked back to the woman.  
Eureka was fascinated by the way Pitch fulfilled his purpose. He wasn’t ruthless, or careless, no. He was almost… Graceful. His feline agility and movements were a hypnotising sight, making the inducement of fear almost pleasant to look at. Almost.  
Pitch looked to the man that was clearly chasing the woman, he noticed he accelerated the pace even more and took his hands out of his pockets. It was at that time that Pitch chose to stand behind the woman and run one of his fingers along her back, from the spine all the way up to her neck. There was almost something sensual to it. Again; almost. The woman clearly flinched and looked behind her. When she saw the man come closer to her at a very fast pace, she started running. She lost one of her heels in the process, but she didn’t seem to care. She went around the corner, and took the opportunity in which the man wasn’t seeing her to quickly search her bag and come up with a chain of keys. The man came around the corner, and was surprisingly not running. He must be one very arrogant man. The woman, on the other hand, was still running and when she arrived at a certain house, practically jumped up the stairs, fiddled with her keys and stuck them inside the door. The man suddenly realised his cockiness might cost him his prey, and he started running towards her. The woman turned the keys, opened the door and closed it right in front of the man. He hit it angrily, looked at it for a few moments, then went down the stairs and walked away.  
Pitch stood on the other side of the street, joined by Eureka who was still flying. Both watched the predator walk away, empty-handed. When he went around the corner, Pitch concentrated his look on Eureka.  
“This is what you wanted to show me? I induce these kinds of fear more than you can imagine. There is nothing new about this. What was the point?”  
“The point, Pitch, is to make you see that fear isn’t all that bad.”  
She gestured towards the door. Out of her gesture came a small, colourful bird, very similar to a Colibri, but under the form of a ghost. It flew across the deserted street, and disappeared upon going through the door. After a few moments, the door opened slowly, with a slight creak. The woman stuck out her head, looked left and right, and when she saw there was no one, she snuck out on the street, barefoot. She tiptoed back where she was a few moments earlier, and bent down to pick up her heel. As she turned around with her shoe in her hand and walked back to her house, Eureka spoke:  
“Tell me, Pitch: what do you think would have happened to her had she not been afraid? What if she had not accelerated her pace, what if she had turned around and faced the man who was going to attack her?”  
“Her? Facing him? She wouldn’t have stood a chance, did you look at him? He was a lot taller and a lot stronger than her! She would’ve been beaten miserably, or worse…”  
“Exactly. Out of all the moments to make her afraid, you chose to make her afraid when he started accelerating his pace and truly became a threat. You could have waited until he had grabbed her arm or her hair, but you didn’t. And the fact that you didn’t wait, and made her afraid as soon as you could, probably saved her life.”  
Pitch watched the woman go up the stairs and close the door behind her. His mouth was slightly open, at a lack of words. He never thought of fear that way. And the fact that Eureka had pointed that out for him was… Was…

Infuriating.

Pitch shook his head, as if needing to wake himself up. He looked at her, anger ruining his delicate facial features.  
“What do you know about fear?! Nothing, you know nothing! You thought this was fear, just you wait! I’ll show you fear! True fear!”  
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her through one of his holes, going through his lair and went in another hole. They resurfaced in the suburbs of Glendale, Missouri. He flew among the many, similar homes, and descended into one, seemingly uninteresting home, through the small window right above the garage door. They landed in a kid’s bedroom. There was nothing truly particular about the room; the walls were made of wood, it was decorated with the usual kind of stuff you can find in a kid’s bedroom; mostly toys, drawings, stuff like that. The toys and drawings themselves indicated this kid was a girl. As Eureka was still recovering from the very quick trip she just made along with the harsh landing, Pitch approached the bed, where the girl was sleeping. He sneered, and stuck his fingers out with another predatory look. He summoned his black sand, and practically submerged the girl in it. The sand levitated above the girl’s head and showed the horrible nightmare Pitch was spinning. The girl, who mustn’t have been older than 6 or 7 years old, was nailed to the ground as she saw her parents disappear into the closet, dragged in by a creature with monstrous hands and claws. From the closet were emanating all sorts of terrifying sounds, as the parents were struggling to stay out of the closet with all their might. The girl was screaming, sticking out her hands towards her parents and tried to grab them, to no avail. The parents shouted the name of their daughter, which turned out to be Amy, before being sucked in by the closet and the doors closing behind them. Amy’s screams became reality, as she jumped up from her bed, covered in sweat and tears. The sand above her head dissolved, but she made direct eye-contact with Pitch. She could see him. For a few seconds, his glittering yellow eyes were locked with her blue ones. Then light flooded the bedroom, along with two concerned, if not somewhat sleepy parents. Pitch vanished from Amy’s sight, and was instead surrounded by her parents who tried to reassure her.  
Pitch turned around to look at Eureka, his anger slowly dissolving and his breath slowly normalizing.  
“See?! This! This is fear, Eureka! This is what I do! This is what I live for!”  
Eureka looked at Pitch, this time with a smidge of sadness in her eyes.  
“Fear will always be there, and people will always hate it! They’ll always scour away, make themselves small and cry! There is no good side to this! You can’t just make fear into something good!”  
Pitch wanted to leave through the window again, but was surprised when Eureka grabbed his wrist. He looked her in the eyes, this time not with anger, but with sadness, and self-pity. She, however, had gotten rid of the sadness in her eyes and made place for confidence.  
“Watch me.”  
She said. She turned towards the family and made another gesture, summoning another Colibri. It flew directly into the mothers’ belly. The mother looked up a little, and started humming. The father quickly caught up with his wife and hummed along. Amy looked up to her parents, her eyes still wet with tears, but her sadness and fear were fading away. The mother started singing, it was a soft lullaby that had become quite popular among families the last few decades. While the family was singing, Eureka looked back to Pitch.  
“Whatever you break, I can fix.”  
Pitch looked away.  
“Don’t paint yourself off as evil, Pitch. Please. You could be capable of so many things…”  
Pitch pulled himself loose from Eureka. He didn’t need to do much pulling, she had loosened her grip considerably when Pitch had calmed down, but still.  
“The only thing I am capable of, are nightmares, Eureka. Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is. Leave me be. Don’t try to ‘fix’ me. And don’t come by my lair anymore.”  
He walked towards the window, but gave Eureka one last glance before leaving. One corner of his mouth went up slightly.  
“I appreciate the effort though.”  
He said. Then he disappeared into the night. The lullaby was coming to an end, and Eureka smiled slightly to herself. Pitch still had a long way to go, but that last sentence was all Eureka needed to know that he wasn’t entirely lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Since his outburst with Eureka, Pitch tried as best he could to avoid the areas where they would usually run into each other. Places such as art galleries, artist bedrooms, or just big cities at night were a big no no for Pitch. He would sometimes see her fly by not too far away, but she would never bother him and just carry on with her work, even though Pitch was convinced that she could sense him. For a while, they did a fine job at not running into each other. They didn’t speak for quite some time either.  
The first time they truly saw each other face to face again was in Ireland, somewhere above Dublin. It was late in the afternoon and Pitch was merely going from one building to the other in the outskirts of the city, in the less populated area. He would stop every now and then to descend to street level and scare off a dog or a cat, and sometimes induce fear into a child that was being startled by another while playing hide and seek. There wasn’t much to be done at times like these, but Pitch enjoyed the break every once and a while. He went up to the roof of a rather tall building and stood on the edge of it to watch the city calm down after rush hour. The sun was getting dangerously low and reflected beautiful yellow strings of light into Pitch’s silver eyes. He couldn’t help but to crack a smile. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw something that made his smile melt away. A repercussion of colours, similar to that of a gasoline stain, floated in the air next to him. Pitch’s heart skipped a beat. How did he not see her?  
He turned around slowly, and saw Eureka hovering above the roof. She was looking at him with a small smile. Her eyes were shining like a thousand diamonds in this light. Too late to disappear into a shadow now. For a second, Pitch was quiet and looked away. He then completely turned around, straightened himself up and looked her right in the eyes.  
“Pitch.”  
“Eureka.”  
“Been a while.”  
She said. Pitch looked away for merely a second. ‘Don’t let your guard down,’ he thought, ‘just, say something that’ll make her leave.’  
“Not long enough.”  
He said. He instantly regretted it. Now he was the one who wanted to leave. Eureka, however, seemed unmoved by his offence. Her smile grew a little broader.  
“I missed you too.”  
She must truly be stupid. Did she really think Pitch was being sarcastic? A small look of despair slipped through Pitch’s eyes before growing cold again. He turned around, to face the sunset again.  
“Didn’t you hear what I last said? I asked you to leave me alone.”  
“You asked, and I did. I left you alone. How’s that been going for you?”  
“I’m fine.”  
“That’s not the impression I’m getting.”  
Pitch grew angry again. He turned around to face her again, and saw that she had flown closer to him over the space of their dialogue. It didn’t stop him from saying what he had in mind:  
“Look, Eureka, when I showed you what fear could do with that little girl, I did it to keep you away. I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone, now just go away!”  
Eureka flew slightly backwards to avoid his hand gesture. Pitch turned away from her after his tone had gone up. Eureka frowned and flew a little closer to him again. This time, she had a stubborn look on her face.  
“You know what? No. I’m not going to leave you alone. Not if you ask me like that.”  
“What?”  
“You heard me. Get some manners first.”  
Pitch sighed. Unbelievable. He put on his best ‘nice-guy’ face and turned his head around.  
“Eureka, would you please leave me alone?”  
“Wow, you must be truly desperate if you put that much effort in it.”  
“That’s it! I asked nicely! Now leave before I make you!”  
“You’ll have to make me, because I’m not leaving.”  
“I’m serious, Eureka.”  
“So am I, Pitch.”  
They locked eyes for a moment. Then Pitch summoned his scythe with Black Sand. He hesitated for another small moment, giving Eureka the time to fly a few feet back and get in combat position. He then flung his weapon towards her with all his might, adding a battle cry to his effort. Eureka evaded it by doing a backflip mid-air, and then launched an attack of her own.  
Her magic was a very unique form of magic, since it only became visible when it came close to you. Once it was visible, the form would distinguish itself by being transparent in the middle, and be surrounded by either lines or stains of the same patterns as gasoline stains or lines. Those colours would be the only indication of what her projected attack actually looked like. In a way, her magic was very similar to the sand magic both Pitch and the Sandman were using, but instead of using sand she used a more liquefied, odourless form. Her form of magic would have made her an incredibly lethal opponent had she wanted to be one. The only sound her attacks made were the sound of pierced air when they came towards you, and as mentioned before, the attacks were mostly unseen before they got within a few feet of you, or when they were close to a threat.  
Pitch remembered the first times that he and Eureka had clashed (because they had clashed countless times in the past, yes, especially in the beginning) and remembered how impressed he was with her ferocity once she had decided the fight was worth fighting. He had been beaten quite a few times by her because he underestimated her too (although he would never admit that to anyone else). He couldn’t help but to admire her skill when it came to battles, even when he knew that she was holding back, recognising the dangers of her powers towards other Legends.  
Anyhow, none of this was helping Pitch win this actual battle, except maybe for the fact that he shouldn’t underestimate her.  
Pitch was able to evade her attack by going over the edge and walking backwards vertically on the side of the building. When Eureka looked over the edge, Pitch swung his scythe at her once more. She avoided it by stepping back from the edge, and then quickly went back over once the blade had passed by. She used her magic to form some kind of lasso around Pitch, and with a strong tug, catapulted Pitch above her head and smashed him down in the middle of the roof. Pitch recovered quickly from her attack and stood back up, already preparing his next offensive. He summoned his black sand again, this time forming a good dozen of small daggers pointing her way. He launched them all at her at the same time. She turned herself to the side and protected herself with a heater shield, the sides clearly distinguished by the colours. Eureka used the shield to redirect the last dagger that came upon her, launching it into the building next to them, where it hit and broke a window before dissolving into sand again. Eureka’s shield dissolved too and made place for an eagle, flying directly towards Pitch, beak first. Pitch took his scythe back in his hands and cut the vision of the eagle in half, piercing right through. He used the speed he’d built up to charge upon Eureka, branding his weapon above his head. Eureka summoned her shield again, right on time. She blocked Pitch’s scythe with the upper side of her shield. She took the time to lock eyes with Pitch for a while, then made her shield explode. Pitch stepped back and covered his eyes, the colours submerging him for a moment. When his sight came back to normal, he could lift his scythe up just in time to block a thin sword coming his way. The blade was like a feather made of metal, and had once more the appearance of a ghost, much like the Colibri and the Eagle Eureka had summoned before. A duel between the two of them broke out and drove them across all four corners of the roof. Pitch swung his scythe all round a few times, always to be gracefully evaded by some flip by Eureka. They duelled for some time, leaving a few traces of destruction along the way. Their weapons were locked into each other, each of them pushing as hard as they could, trying to put the other out of balance, when Eureka’s look suddenly lost its focus.  
“Wait. Do you hear that?”  
Pitch stopped pushing and stepped back, his guard still up, not setting aside that this might be a ruse.  
“Hear what?”  
“Shh.”  
Eureka put a finger in front of her lips as she let down her sword. When the tip hit the ground with a crystalizing sound, the sword disappeared. Pitch didn’t let his scythe vanish, but he lowered it too, along with his guard. He listened closely to his surroundings. Then, all of the sudden, from far away, coming from the more populated area of Dublin, came a high-pitched, male laughter. It was a quick, almost insane laughter, with a hint of evil added to it. The two Legends standing on the roof looked at each other, completely forgetting they were fighting barely a few seconds ago.  
“Is that…?”  
“It’s that damned Leprechaun!”  
Eureka said.  
“Oh no…”  
“Oh no? If there’s one of us who should be saying that it should be me! What do you have against him?”  
“Actually, it’s the other way around. He has something against me.”  
“How come?”  
“I… Might, have slightly sabotaged the 1st of April somewhere around 2003… It didn’t go over well…”  
She rolled her eyes and smiled.  
“Why am I not surprised…”  
“He was also very specific about the fact that if he ever saw me again, he would, and I quote: ‘burry me under all of his shoes and make me swallow all the coins of his cauldron until I choked on them’.”  
“That’s… Oddly specific.”  
“What is your feud with him?”  
Eureka sighed.  
“He has something for me.”  
“What does he have for you?”  
“No, I mean… He has something for me.”  
She changed her tone when she said ‘something’. It took Pitch a moment to understand.  
“Oh… OH.”  
He looked at her with surprise and disgust. She didn’t seem enthusiastic about it either.  
“Yeah. I know.”  
“But… He’s small!”  
“I know.”  
“And the wrinkles…”  
“I know!”  
They heard the laughter again. It had come dangerously close. The two Legends who, moments ago, were fiercely fighting, suddenly became allies at the idea that they’d have to face an even worse horror than each other.  
“Damn, he’s fast!”  
“Where is he?”  
Pitch asked. He couldn’t sense where that Leprechaun was, but Eureka could.  
“Oh, dear, he’s a block away, quick, hide!”  
“What about you?”  
“I can distract him while you slip away, go!”  
She didn’t leave Pitch the time to protest and pushed him over the edge of the building. When he heard the tiny feet run up on the other side of the building, he knew he couldn’t just fly off as a shadow, the Leprechaun would see him. He became a shadow and stuck himself against the very surface of the building. He heard the Legend land on the roof and take on what he thought to be a ‘seductive’ tone. Except that with the rather high-pitched and nasal voice he had, it didn’t sound good at all.  
“Eureka. Fancy meeting you here.”  
He said whilst bowing and taking off his hat. He didn’t seem that harmful like this. He was just a small man, with a little ginger beard, shining teeth, and dressed in a green outfit that matched his hat. Eureka barely had time to turn away from the edge she had pushed Pitch over when he said those words. She quickly turned around and put her best smile on.  
“Leprechaun! I had no idea you were around here, am I invading your sector?”  
The little man (and when I say little I do mean little) put his green hat back on and walked towards Eureka.  
“You, my dear, can go anywhere you like in my sector.”  
When he came a little too close to the edge, Eureka quickly flew closer to him.  
“That’s, ah, very nice of you, Leprechaun. But, I was only passing through, drop some ideas here and there… And, I’m about done now, so, I should probably get going…”  
She wanted to fly upwards but Leprechaun grabbed her wrist and stopped her from flying any higher.  
“Eureka, wait! Come on, you could at least spend some time with me. It’s been too long since we last spoke…”  
He came awfully close. Eureka tried to stay away from him by pulling her head back, her wrist still being the prisoner of that small hand of his. But she didn’t want to try to free herself, because that might make him suspicious.  
“I don’t know, Leprechaun. I have other matters to attend to…”  
She tried.  
“I could accompany you…”  
He suggested. Pitch felt disgusted, and sorry for Eureka. He knew how unpleasant that dwarf could be.  
“No! No, that… Won’t be necessary.”  
Woops. Maybe her reaction was a little bit too desperate. Leprechaun frowned.  
“Are you okay, Eureka? You seem a little… Nervous.”  
“I’m not nervous, I’m just… I have a lot of work ahead of me, and I don’t like getting behind schedule.”  
Leprechaun rolled his eyes.  
“All work and no play. Relax, have some fun!”  
“I really can’t. I have to get to an award ceremony and—”  
“You’re not still working together with that joke, are you?”  
Leprechaun interrupted her.  
“I… You know what, Leprechaun, that’s none of your business. And he’s not a joke.”  
“You are! I can’t believe you would still even be on the same continent as that guy! You know what he did, right?!”  
“I do, and I don’t care. I like working with Pitch.”  
“He’s a failure, Eureka, and not worth your time!”  
“That’s not for you to decide!”  
Eureka was getting angry. Leprechaun was about to answer, when his look suddenly went cold.  
“Wait… Is he here?”  
He asked. A small wave of panic came over Eureka. She didn’t answer.  
“Is. He. Here?”  
Leprechaun almost shouted. He turned entirely green and was suddenly covered in wrinkles. His teeth became sharp and his eyes turned red. That’s when Pitch felt it:  
For a small second, Eureka was afraid. A shudder of fear overcame her, it lasted only a second, but it was long enough to make her pale and to let Pitch smell it. When it reached his nostrils, Pitch was overcome with a wave of anger towards that Leprechaun. He came out of the shadow he had hidden in and quickly went over the roof to grab hold of Eureka.  
“Come on!”  
He shouted. Eureka didn’t need to be asked that twice and she grabbed hold of Pitch’s hand. Together, they catapulted themselves in the opposite direction of the now enraged Leprechaun who had become truly terrifying upon seeing Pitch. Their escape was quite clumsy in the beginning. Eventually they found a balance by switching roles: sometimes Eureka would fly as fast as she could and just drag Pitch along behind her, and he would deflect the attacks of acid that the Leprechaun was throwing at them with his sand. Other times, Pitch would make the two of them vanish into a shadow and come out another, while Eureka was covering them both with a shield. They had to cross the Irish Sea and fly into a hole in the ground somewhere along the coast of Wales in order to escape the mad Leprechaun chasing them. They made a hard landing in Pitch’s lair, and just sat there, with their backs against a wall for quite some time, completely out of breath. When they looked at each other and had gained some breath, Eureka just started laughing. Pitch couldn’t help it, and joined in. The two of them just laughed out loud, for quite some time, their laughs resonating in Pitch’s empty palace. They had to stop laughing, because they were out of breath again.  
“Ah, North’s beard, that was incredible.”  
“Incredible? That was revolutionary! I don’t think anyone has ever crossed the Irish Sea that fast!”  
The smile on Pitch’s face when he said that was genuine. Eureka looked at him but didn’t respond. His eyes were golden with happiness, his smile was true, and despite his slightly disarranged teeth, the most beautiful she had ever seen.  
They just looked at each other, catching their breaths again. They both smiled and looked each other in the eyes. Then, their smiles slowly faded when they were realising neither of them were breaking eye contact. And that’s when it happened.  
That’s when the first spark flew.

In her lair, Cupid suddenly sprung up, jerked awake by some sort of nightmare.  
“What in the name of love…?”  
She walked towards a crystal ball that was in the middle of her room, and gave it a small kiss with her beautiful, round lips. In the ball, she saw an image of Eureka and Pitch, looking at each other. When she saw that, she seemed angry.  
“Impossible…”  
She said. She hit the ball, as if to make sure it wasn’t malfunctioning. The image stayed the same.  
“No!”  
She said. She grabbed her bow and arrows, spread her angel like wings and flew out. Her red, long hair wavered after her. Once she had left the room, the globe started shining, and out of the globe suddenly appeared a spark. Out of the spark came the echoic sounds of Pitch’s and Eureka’s laughter mixed together. The spark flew towards a wooden closet filled with glass jars. In each of them was a spark, each spark animated by some form of dialogue, laughter or sometimes just silence. Pitch’s and Eureka’s spark flew towards one of the empty jars, and deposited itself in it. The jar sealed itself up, and a tag was glued to it by an invisible force, stating:  
‘Pitch and Eureka.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Cupid is usually a male, but I really wanted it to be a woman for this round.  
> Also, not sure if Leprechaun being that scary was a good idea, but I really liked the idea of a small dwarf suddenly being terrifying.


	5. Chapter 5

They stared too long. They had sunken into each other’s eyes and they needed a map to get out of there. The first one to find an exit was Pitch, who quickly looked away. He stood up and offered his hand to Eureka. She was slightly surprised for a moment, but took his hand without hesitation and let herself be pulled up by him. He cleared his throat and started walking towards the centre of the room. He cleared the dust off his coat.  
“Ehm… Feel free to stay a while if you want to… You know, in case that Leprechaun is still out there…”  
“I thought I wasn’t allowed in your lair anymore?”  
Pitch turned around and looked at Eureka, clearly unamused. Eureka giggled and rolled her eyes playfully. She joined him by flying to his side, and kept hovering next to him at walking speed, whilst he was going through his lair, listening to the footsteps that reminded him how empty it was. The only other sound that joined the footsteps in the lonesome walk were the sound of water drops falling from the empty cages every once and a while. Pitch took a rusting chain that was hanging down from the ceiling in his hand, and then let it back down after he’d walked too far to be able to hold on to it.  
“This place used to be beautiful once…”  
He said with a smidge of melancholy in his voice.  
“Define beautiful.”  
Eureka said. Pitch looked at her again, with a frown that was clearly going places. She quickly corrected herself:  
“I mean, come on, Pitch. Your sense of beauty and mine aren’t exactly alike…”  
He sighed, giving her words truth.  
“This place used to be bustling with life. There was grass everywhere, the floor was… Well, it was a floor, not a disassembled, cracked up attempt at one. There were flowers of all kinds and light, beige houses with stone-carved decorations spread a little everywhere. Kids would run around with wooden toys in their hands, shaped in horses, dragons, and small knights. They would run between all the adults walking around with something in their hands, especially on market day. The women would carry around self-woven baskets with flowers of all colours, and the men would carry wood, or pottery from one place to the other. The sun would pierce through the buildings, but there would always be a good place to find a shadow, where people could cool off every so often. It was… Different.”  
Eureka looked at Pitch with wide eyes, in complete disbelief. Was this what Pitch was like when he opened up to someone and showed trust? How many times had he reminisced over the beauty this place once held? How many times had he regretted it?  
“I take it back. Your sense of beauty is very similar to mine.”  
She said, speaking nothing but truth. Pitch looked at her and cracked a small, sweet smile. It quickly melted away however, and he turned back into the position he was originally walking in. He continued to walk while speaking:  
“Unfortunately, it all sank away. Now, it’s nothing but a grey, empty palace with cages.”  
He looked down when his foot encountered a small uneven surface on the ground. It was a dried-out stubble of dirt.  
“Hm. There used to be a tree here. With a bird nest, if I recall correctly.”  
“I would really like to see what it looked like.”  
“I think you would have liked it.”  
He said with a sad smile.  
“Only one way to find out.”  
She said. Pitch was confused. He stopped walking and turned back around.  
“What do you mean?”  
“The description you gave me is enough to get a somewhat realistic vision of what this place once was. All I have to do is project it.”  
“You can’t recreate a place that has been dead for centuries!”  
She smiled.  
“Don’t worry. I have a very vivid imagination.”  
Upon that, she closed her eyes and spread her arms. From underneath her, a visible wind spread out to all the corners of the lair, creating ghost representations of what Pitch described in the representative places. The buildings, the trees, even the birds and butterflies all became visible under the form of ghostly visions. They were all quite white, and of course, marked with the gasoline colours on the sides. She stopped hovering and set foot on the ground, opening her eyes and looking around with wonder. Her eyes were even brighter than ever, probably due to her powers being active.  
“You’re right, Pitch. I like it. I like it a lot.”  
Pitch himself also stared in wonder. He had no idea Eureka could do that. And it had been ages since he’d last seen this place look so beautiful. He’d missed it. From around the corner of a building, the two Legends heard childish laughter, and then saw three children chasing each other with the wooden toys Pitch had described, clearly having the time of their lives. Pitch walked out of the way of the vision of the children, even though he didn’t have to. Eureka noted his kindness.  
“Does it resemble what it used to be?”  
She asked. Pitch nodded and kept staring around. He smiled.  
“Yes. It’s incredible. It’s almost lifelike!”  
He walked towards the tree with the nest in it. He saw the birds happily chirping inside of it.  
“To the smallest detail…”  
He said, in utter disbelief.  
“If you gave me some more details, I might be able to refine the vision even more.”  
Pitch looked around and searched for some things that were missing. He pointed out one of the buildings with his finger.  
“That building, right there. It used to be the sawmill. There was a little sign that hung right above the entrance to the workspace, but it kept breaking. Everyone kept joking about it. But the carpenter wouldn’t fix it until it actually fell on his head one day.”  
“Wait, it fell on him? What kind of carpenter doesn’t fix his own sign?”  
“The lazy kind.”  
Pitch said. Eureka concentrated and a small, broken sign appeared on the place he’d described it. Pitch kept walking around the imaginary town and described small little details he remembered from the mason, the potter, the weaver, and so on. His smile grew bigger every time Eureka brought one of his memories to life. They ended up in a small central plaza.  
“There used to be a big, beautiful fountain here. Carved out of stone, placed above a natural source. It looked like a tree, whose branches were letting down drops of water.”  
Eureka tried to make the fountain appear, but it stopped halfway. All the visions around them suddenly started blinking or fading, as if the signal wasn’t coming through clearly. Upon seeing all his memories disappear, Pitch turned to Eureka, worried. The visions blinked faster. She fell on one knee, exhausted. When her knee hit the ground, all the visions disappeared and Pitch’s lair went back to its dark, empty old self.  
“Eureka!”  
Pitch quickly joined her side, but couldn’t bring himself to touch her. She held up her hand, trying to imply everything was fine.  
“I’m okay. Long-term projection wears me out. I just need to catch my breath.”  
“You look pale. You should sit down.”  
He guided her towards a stone block, where she sat down and grabbed her head.  
“I’m sorry I had to interrupt the projection like that. If you want, I can restart once I’m ready…”  
“No, no need. I’m very happy with what I’ve seen. I mean, it was so beautiful and lifelike… It was incredible!”  
Eureka seemed to blush, but it wasn’t very distinguishable due to her pale skin tone.  
“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”  
“I did. I did like it. Thank you.”  
For a moment, Eureka looked up, surprised. She had never heard Pitch say that before. In the 70 years she’d been around, not once had she heard Pitch say ‘thank you’, and mean it. She was stunned for a few moments, then smiled broadly.  
“You’re very welcome.”  
They did it again. They stared too long. Pitch needed to find his way out of there yet again.  
“So, uhm… How did you find out you could do that?”  
He asked rather clumsily. Eureka’s features saddened.  
“A few months after I became a Legend. You know, it’s those clumsy times when you have to adapt to a whole new lifestyle. People can walk through you, you have powers, you can fly, you have to go around the globes three times a day to spread ideas… It’s a little overwhelming. At least, I was overwhelmed. I wanted to go back to my roots. I went to the place where I woke up as a Legend, and just wished really hard I could relive the moment, to see if there were any details that I might’ve missed. And that’s when it just… Popped up.”  
She smiled, but it was a sad smile.  
“Did you find anything?”  
Pitch asked, legitimately interested.  
“I tried to relive through the visions several times, but it wears me out every time. I can’t make a vision appear completely, in full detail and keep it up until the end. And if I try to leave out the details, then I learn nothing more than what I already knew.”  
“But… Don’t you know where you came from?”  
“I know that I had a life before becoming a Legend. I know that there was something to go home to, I know that I had a sense of purpose. But for some reason, I can’t remember anything specific. I can’t remember faces, voices, certain sounds, smells or images that I should remember. It’s like reaching for something, and it’s just inches out of reach, but for the life of me I can’t reach it.”  
“Maybe I can help you.”  
Pitch offered.  
“No offence, Pitch, but how are you going to help? It happened 70 years ago, and last time I checked, you weren’t there.”  
“I don’t think that’s true…”  
He sat down next to her and looked at her, but not in a threatening way.  
“When you woke up, as a Legend. What did you feel?”  
He asked.  
“Cold. Alone. Confused.”  
“And?”  
Eureka thought for a moment, then her face lit up.  
“Fear. I felt fear. You were there!”  
“Technically, I wasn’t there personally. Inducing fear into a waking Legend is no small feat. But the simple fact that you felt something related to me could create a certain connection. Instead of having to support your vision alone, I could help you.”  
“You would do that?”  
“Of course. All you have to do is ask. Now where did you wake up?”  
Eureka didn’t answer right away. She needed time to process the fact that she was finally going to know where she came from, who she was. She looked in Pitch’s eyes, they were shining with curiosity.  
“London. I woke up in London.”  
“Where?”  
“I’ll show you.”  
She flew up, through one of the holes again. Pitch followed her and they emerged in London. It was early night; the lampposts were starting to light up the streets. Eureka flew towards the centre of the city, passing Big Ben. She went in the direction of the St. Paul’s Cathedral, but flew down behind it, entering a small brick building. She went through the roof, and landed on the wooden floor. As Pitch stepped out of a shadow next to her, she looked around, to find a barely recognisable room.  
It was looking like a big, industrialised room, the brick walls barren but neat, with a wooden floor that was laid no longer than a decade ago. There were very few windows. There were neat, white desks spread all over the room, with desktops, files and glasses with pens and pencils in them. Eureka looked a little sad.  
“They must’ve renovated the building. I haven’t been here in a while.”  
Pitch let her look around and get familiar with the building she (almost literally) was born in. Just like his sunken palace, the place had become estranged to her. For a moment, he wanted to put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but he kept himself from doing it. He didn’t know why. Eureka sighed deeply.  
“I’m ready. How exactly are we going to do this?”  
“Well, I can help you relive your past by making you feel a similar feeling to what you felt back then. Usually, feelings will trigger certain memories that simple sight, smell or taste can’t. Unfortunately, that also means that I will have to… Scare you.”  
Pitch had realised what he was offering while he was talking. He wanted to bang his head against one of the desks. Was this truly his amazing plan? Help someone regain their memories by frightening them to near death? Good plan, Pitch.  
“Okay. I’m up for it.”  
Pitch was so surprised by Eureka’s answer that his mouth fell open. What on Earth was wrong with this girl? She just accepted to let him scare her. She just invited him, the Boogieman, to scare her. Did she realize what she was asking?  
“Eureka. You must know: the fear I induce to waking Legends isn’t just some good scare. It’s a very specific kind of fear, there’s hints of everything: loneliness, cold, angst. Are you sure?”  
She nodded.  
“I trust you Pitch. Besides, I’ve been through it before, and I’m still here, right?”  
She smiled truthfully. Pitch took a deep breath, then nodded as well.  
“Very well. Are you ready?”  
He didn’t wait for her answer, because technically he already had it. She turned around, and Pitch put his hands on either side of her head, his long fingers bending a little around her. He closed his eyes. When he exhaled, he saw Eureka flinch. She recovered quickly though, and did as she had done before in the sunken palace: she threw her hands to either side of her body, letting a visible wind create the vision of her past. The room reformed, and Pitch saw the walls fall apart in front of him. The building was completely open, due to some massive destruction. He saw visions of flames everywhere, the floor completely caved in. It strangely reminded him of his sunken palace. He suddenly heard a voice, as if from far away and quickly coming closer. From behind them suddenly appeared the ghostly version of a police officer. He looked around him and searched through the rubble. After some searching, he turned to another officer that joined him.  
“Go tell the Sergeant there were no survivors.”  
At that moment, the ghostly form of Eureka came down from the stairs in the far back of the building, that had miraculously survived the destruction. When she saw and heard the man speak, her face lit up.  
“No, wait! I’m here, I’m alive! Please, help me.”  
She walked clumsily over the rubble, clearly still stunned from what she underwent. She wanted to walk into the man’s arms, but fell on the ground when she fell through him.  
Pitch’s heart sunk when he saw this. He knew all too well how much it hurt the first time it happened to him. It clearly hurt Eureka just as much. She looked at her hands, shocked.  
“Sir, please, my name is Eureka. I don’t know where I am, I think I’m hallucinating, can you help, please?”  
She asked the other policeman. He didn’t hear her and turned around to report to the mentioned Sergeant from before. Eureka stood up, on the verge of tears.  
“Sir, please. Help me. I don’t know what’s going on…”  
She ran after him, and the vision disappeared. Pitch heard the real Eureka mumble to herself.  
“No… I’m too far into the future, I need to go back.”  
The visions seemed to rewind themselves. Eureka went back up the stairs and the policeman disappeared. Suddenly, Eureka came back down the stairs, still in reverse movement, clearly running. She laid down on the ground and lied unconscious there for quite a moment. The vision started flickering. Pitch heard Eureka grunt. This time, he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed tightly.  
“Just a little longer Eureka, you’re almost there.”  
She was sweating, but kept going. Suddenly, a big bang blinded them both, and then the room was back to normal. Instead of having desks however, the room was hung with paintings. The walls weren’t barren either, they were painted in a neat white colour. The floor was wood, but clearly older and of another colour. The visions were rewinding very fast and Pitch could barely see what was going on. He nudged Eureka.  
“Eureka, you’re going too fast. Eureka, stop!”  
She opened her eyes, as if waking up from a nightmare, and the visions took their normal course of actions again.  
The door to the room opened, and Eureka came in, looking around suspiciously. She was dressed in much older clothing, mostly brown leather. She was wearing boots, a brown, leather trench coat, a scarf of a disgusting blue discolour, thick woollen pants and aviator glasses around her neck. She looked behind her, to someone who was standing behind the door, and gestured to come along.  
“Come on.”  
She whispered. A young man came in behind her, looking worried.  
“I don’t know Rose. They’re really close this time.”  
“Oh come on, we’ve done this a hundred times before. We’ll be fine.”  
“But I can hear them, they’re right above us!”  
“They’re always right above us, William. Now help me with this one.”  
She was detaching a painting carefully from the wall. The young man named William came along to help.  
Eureka was stunned, and disappointed. She spent all this time wondering who she was, and now she finds out she was an art thief? What on Earth is wrong with the Moon?  
William kept protesting while they started piling up paintings in the centre of the room. He suddenly seemed startled by something he heard.  
“Did you hear that?”  
“Yes, I heard it, William. Quit being a chicken and bring that last painting along.”  
He went to detach the smaller painting from the wall and put it together with the others.  
“I still don’t get it. If this is your aunt’s place, why are we breaking in?”  
“Because she’s one of the people that believes that if you pray hard enough, God won’t hit you.”  
“You don’t?”  
“Look outside, William! It’s raining bombs! We can’t rely on God to save everything. Sometimes, we have to get our hands dirty.”  
She started packing up the stacked paintings in cloth and binding it with rope.  
“Still, these are your father’s paintings. You could just have asked—”  
“She won’t leave them to me, William, you know that. She’d want to ‘honour his memory’ by leaving the paintings where he hung them. Well, sorry aunt Cassie, but I don’t think that letting my father’s paintings blow up because of your stubbornness will ‘honour his memory’.”  
There it was. The legendary sass that Pitch had gotten used to. Rose/Eureka stopped packing paintings and looked at William.  
“Listen William, I know that this isn’t exactly what you were expecting when I asked for your help, but we’ve been doing a great job so far! And this is the last one, after this, we’re done.”  
“We’re stealing paintings!”  
“BORROWING paintings, William, borrowing. Besides, I don’t think anyone is going to mind people running around with a few unknown paintings while the Germans are in the sky.”  
William didn’t look convinced. At all.  
“We’ll give them back. Once the war is over.”  
“We might not even survive the war!”  
“Don’t be such a pessimist. Take that first stack of paintings and go to the warehouse. And don’t forget to label them so we can send them back to the right address!”  
She shouted after him when he closed the door behind him. She finished packing up the second stack of paintings and put them outside the building, for William to pick up. She started roaming around in the now empty and barren building. The door opened slightly. William stuck his head through.  
“I’m taking the second stack. You coming?”  
“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”  
“Rose, I can hear planes again…”  
“Just, give me a minute, William. Please.”  
William sighed, but closed the door behind him. Rose wandered around and touched the walls, as if trying to remember a certain someone that hadn’t been in her life for a while. Then all of the sudden, a terribly loud sound overcame all of them, like an old machine coming closer and closer. A whistling sound was heard. Rose’s eyes shot open and she started running towards the door, but an explosion threw everything upside down. From then on, the vision was familiar towards the two Legends again: Eureka running up the stairs, the policeman coming to investigate, the horrifying realization that no one could see her.  
When the vision ended, they all disappeared and Eureka fell to her knees on the ground. Pitch didn’t come too close to her and let her stomach what she had just seen.  
“The London Blitz. Of course. I was a victim of the London Blitz.”  
Pitch looked away. He remembered the times of war. He was ashamed to admit that those were the glory days. He was spreading fear good enough to last for generations over the space of one night, in one country. Eureka, or Rose, was one of the people he’d frightened.  
“I’m… Sorry.”  
He said.  
“No, Pitch, don’t be sorry. In fact, I want to thank you. You’ve shown me where I come from, how I became what I am now. Thank you.”  
She got up and wrapped her arms around his slender waist. Pitch took a horrified look on his face and kept his arms stiff next to his body, unable to move. He’d forgotten how terrible he was at hugging. He quickly tried to interrupt the hug by asking a question:  
“So, wait, I need some clarifying. What exactly were you doing in here?”  
“I think I was seeing myself as some kind of ‘vigilante’, I guess. I was trying to save painting, or just art in general from the bombings in the London Blitz.”  
“Didn’t the authorities take care of that?”  
“For the big museums yes, but for small time paintings and artworks, there was no time and they were doomed to go down with the building. I think that I didn’t want to accept that and took it upon me to steal as much artworks as I could, and bring them to this ‘warehouse’ for safekeeping. And then, as I said, when the war was over, I would send them back to the right address.”  
“But this one, it was special. You spoke of your father…”  
“He must’ve been enlisted in the army, like most other men. But he wasn’t a soldier, he was a painter. The outfit I was wearing, it was similar to one of an aviator… He must’ve been a pilot or something. And from what I understand, he was killed in action, during the very first year of the war. These were his paintings. I wasn’t stealing them, I was trying to save them.”  
“And you succeeded. That boy, William, he left with both painting packages. Which means that they probably survived, right?”  
“Yes! But I haven’t been looking. I don’t know where to start!”  
Pitch smiled sweetly at her as she took off from the ground, regaining her usual energy.  
“You’re Eureka. You are creativity itself. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”  
“You’re right! But I need to get started now!”  
She flew through the roof. A few moments later, she came back and put a gently hand on Pitch’s shoulder.  
“Thank you, Pitch. For everything.”  
He smiled.  
“Go, you have much work to do.”  
She smiled back and this time, flew through the roof and didn’t come back. As Pitch turned around to leave the room and walked towards the exit, he whispered to himself:  
“Rose…”


	6. Chapter 6

Pitch didn’t hear anything from Eureka for a few days. There were times he was tempted to check on her, but he quickly reconsidered by remembering that terrible job he did at hugging her. Then, when dusk was barely hitting, Eureka literally dropped in through one of the holes in his sunken palace and couldn’t readjust her course in time, so she ended up bouncing off the ground before clumsily flying over to Pitch, a little dazed. She didn’t lose any of the energy she used during the fall and grabbed hold of Pitch’s shoulders with a huge smile on her face.  
“Pitch! You have to come! You have to come see!”  
She didn’t wait for his answer. She grabbed his hand and flew up another one of the holes in the ceiling. After having received some dirt in his face because of Eureka’s enthusiastic (but unfortunately not very attuned) flying, they emerged on the far outskirts of Epsom. She flew towards one of the small houses and finally let go of Pitch’s hand. He recovered on the completely deserted street, then looked around.  
“Well, thank you, Eureka, for that very fine flying, but if you don’t mind… What in the blazes are we doing here?!”  
Eureka completely dismissed his moodiness by looking at him with big eyes, full of wonder.  
“Guess who I found?”  
She asked playfully. Pitch looked around, unamused. On the other side of the street, the door of one of the houses flew open and a little boy, no older than 5 years old, ran out giggling. He was being chased by his father, who was pretending to be a dinosaur who wanted to devour him. His big feet made it very convincing. When he caught him, he laughed his head off and almost let go of the teddy bear he had been dragging behind him this entire time.  
“Come on, little monster, it’s time for bed.”  
“I’m not tired!”  
“Well, that’s okay, monster. Grandpa will tell you a story sooooooo boring, you’re going to fall asleep right away.”  
The boy’s eyes opened wide in anticipation.  
“Grandpa is going to tell a story?!”  
“Yes monster.”  
He put him down, and he ran into the house with the same enthusiasm he ran out of it.  
“I want to hear a story!”  
Pitch watched the scene, completely unmoved.  
“So, what? You found a little monster screaming its lungs out without me? How wonderful. Can I get to scaring now?”  
“Don’t you want to hear the story?”  
Eureka asked playfully. Pitch was still not amused.  
“Do I look like I want to hear a bedtime story?”  
“Well you sure as Hell look like you need one. Come on.”  
Before he could protest, she had grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the house, where the boy had just climbed into bed and was joined by his grandfather, who must’ve been in his mid-80’s. He sat down as the boy kept repeating:  
“Story! Story! Story!”  
“Alright, alright, young man. Calm down.”  
Pitch rolled his eyes.  
“Is there a point to this?”  
“Shh, it’s starting.”  
Eureka flew up and sat down on top of the wardrobe. Pitch rolled his eyes again, but decided to indulge her, and leaned against the window frame.  
“Alright. This is a story you haven’t heard yet. Are you ready?”  
The boy nodded energetically.  
“Once upon a time, there was a young man who knew a young woman. They were very good friends, they had known each other since they were little kids. They grew up together, in London. They both had big dreams. She wanted to travel the world, and he wanted to become a pilot. They had both started their way towards their dream, but then, a great war erupted in their country. Their dream was suddenly a lot harder to reach. Their parents went away, their fathers had to go to the war and their mothers needed to take care of their families. They were certain that their fathers would return, but unfortunately, they didn’t. They were both killed in the war. Both the young man and woman were very sad about losing their fathers. The woman was even so sad, that she decided to change her dream. She didn’t care about her dream anymore. All she wanted to do, was to save what her father had made. But since she is a very kind and good woman, she also decided to save everything else that other people created. She asked help of the young man, and together, they became vigilantes.”  
“Like Batman!”  
The boy shouted.  
“Yes, like batman. The man and the woman started breaking into small museums and buildings where art was stored. They would take it, and stack it somewhere safe from the bombs.”  
“They were stealing paintings?”  
“They were BORROWING paintings. They only took the paintings when the war was going on. When the war was over, they promised to bring back the art to their respectful owners. They did this for quite some time. After some time, they couldn’t even find any art left to steal. So the woman decided that they would be breaking into one more place, and then they would be done. Because, running around when the bombs were dropping was very dangerous. They broke into the museum, but this museum was a special one. This was the museum where all the woman’s father’s paintings were. They took out the paintings, but the woman missed her father so much. She decided to stay behind, while the man was carrying the paintings away. Unfortunately, that was the last time the man and the woman spoke to each other.”  
“Why?!”  
“A bomb was dropped on top of the building, and the woman was still in it.”  
“No!”  
“Are you sad?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why?”  
“Because the woman died.”  
“Well, the man was sad too. He lost one of his best friends. But he knew that if he would just give up there, that the woman wouldn’t be very happy about it. So he kept the art they borrowed safe, until the war was over. And when the war was over, the man did as the woman had originally planned, and gave back the art to all the people. And when he saw all those people so happy to find what they thought they had lost, he knew that the woman wasn’t dead. Not really. He knew that somewhere, she was still watching over him, and over all the art they took. By saving the creations of others, the man and the woman had saved a lot of things, and a lot of people. By giving back the art, the man understood what the woman wanted to achieve. She wanted to give the people the gift of imagination. And imagination is always there. The end.”  
The boy said nothing.  
“Did you like the story?”  
“Yes. But the woman died.”  
“That’s true. But that was a risk she wanted to take. And think of all the people she made so happy, without them even knowing. In their happiness, she still lives on.”  
“Do you think the man missed her?”  
“Oh, I think he did. He missed her very much. But he knew her very well. She would probably have hit him on the head and said: ‘don’t be such a pessimist!’. And that memory of her was what he wanted to honour and remember.”  
“Do you think the woman is still watching over everything now?”  
“I do. I think that as long as there is art to protect, she will be around.”  
There was a silence.  
“Grandpa? Do you think that if I make art, she will watch over me too?”  
“Of course she would. What would you like to make?”  
“I don’t know yet.”  
“Well, don’t worry about that. We’ll figure that out tomorrow, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“Goodnight, little monster.”  
“Goodnight, grandpa William.”  
The grandfather stepped out of the room and closed the door. Eureka and Pitch stayed behind in the room where the only light source was a little light on the boy’s bed stand. Pitch looked to Eureka.  
“Eureka. This is it! This is the complete version of your story! How did you know?”  
“He needed to find a story to tell his grandson, and he came up with that with some little help of good ol’ me. As soon as I gave him inspiration, I felt it. I knew it was him.”  
“And he restored all the art you stole!”  
“Borrowed.”  
“Borrowed, yes.”  
“He did. He sent the art to all their respective owners. He even sent Rose’s father’s paintings back to her aunt Cassie. Well, she’s dead now, but she passed them on to her daughter.”  
“Did you go see them?”  
“No. I… I wanted to go see them with you.”  
“Oh… Why?”  
Pitch was clearly flattered and surprised, but also very, very confused. Eureka jumped off the wardrobe again and stood in front of Pitch, looking him right in the eyes.  
“You helped me resolve the mystery behind my awakening. You are a part of this, and it is only fair we conclude it together by checking out those paintings.”  
Pitch was taken aback by a spark in her eyes. She truly meant every word she was saying. It had been a long time since Pitch had been addressed with such honesty without hatred.  
“That’s very… Thoughtful of you.”  
He said clumsily. She smiled.  
“Come on, let’s go!”  
“Oh, we’re going right now?”  
“Yes! Now come on!”  
She flew out the window. Since it had also been quite a long time since Pitch had received such a, invitation in his years, he couldn’t help but smile and followed her. They went back to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, but instead of going for the original building, Pitch followed Eureka a little further to an older part of the district. They arrived in the room, where the walls were painted white and all the paintings were hanging on the walls. Eureka’s eyes sparkled.  
“They’re here, all of them!”  
She set foot to ground and started walking around, caressing the walls with her fingers while travelling by the displayed paintings. Pitch didn’t follow her and merely approached one of the nearest paintings.  
It was a simple, realistic representation of a pot of flowers, mostly random kinds of flowers. There was no specific style, effect or anything, it was just flowers. He quickly glanced at the other paintings in proximity and saw that every single one of them was a flower, set apart, painted in the utmost detail. He could hear Eureka from the back end of the room:  
“Wow, he really liked flowers, didn’t he?”  
“Well, your name was Rose, before becoming a Legend.”  
“Hm? Oh, yes, I keep forgetting that. Anyways, what do you think of the paintings?”  
“They’re… Nice, I suppose.”  
Eureka joined him, still walking on the floor. Pitch noticed only now how small she was compared to him when she kept her feet on the ground.  
“You have no idea, do you?”  
Pitch laughed nervously, confirming Eureka’s question and making her smile.  
“That’s okay. Honestly, sometimes I don’t either.”  
Pitch was almost shocked.  
“You? You don’t get art? But you represent it!”  
“No, I represent creativity. But just like you, just because I’m the Legend of something, doesn’t mean that I have to get everything that all the artists do. I mean, wrap a building in toilet paper? Come on.”  
“Someone actually did that?”  
“Yes!”  
“Why?!”  
“I don’t know!”  
They were laughing and excited at the same time. Slowly, the laughter died out. Pitch suddenly lost his smile. He seemed to realize something. Eureka noticed it.  
“What is it?”  
“Nothing, it’s—”  
“Out with it.”  
She interrupted him. Pitch looked away.  
“Well… Now that you know how you got here, things will go back to what they were, right?”  
“Yes.”  
“So, it’s goodbye then…”  
Pitch said, sadly. Eureka seemed neutral for a moment, then rolled her eyes.  
“Oh Pitch, always so dramatic.”  
She took off from the ground, grabbed his shoulders and dragged him through the roof, where she put him down.  
“Pitch, after what you and I just went through, there is no way we are going back to what is was like before. You helped me find out where I came from and I’ve spent so much time with you! I know you better now and I know that if I leave you like this I will never forgive myself.”  
In her excitement, Eureka was turning around again. As she was pivoting upside-down, she kept talking:  
“So, if you think that I will really be saying something like ‘thanks for everything, bye!’ then you are dead wrong. From now on, we’re making running from Leprechaun a thing. Sound good?”  
Pitch needed a moment, either because he was completely stunned by Eureka’s monologue, or because he could not believe what he was hearing. He answered shyly:  
“Yes.”  
“Hit on it.”  
She held her hand up. Which was strange for Pitch, since she was still upside down. He gave her an upside-down high five anyways, making her smile.  
“I’ll see you soon, Pitch.”  
Pitch didn’t answer, but nodded. Eureka turned back around and gave Pitch one last smile before flying away into the distance. When she disappeared from his sight, Pitch couldn’t help but to go back to the hall where all the paintings were hanging, and walk through them again, trying to see what Rose’s father saw in her. He stopped at the painting where a single rose was represented, again in the smallest detail. Pitch stared at it for a few minutes, but couldn’t really find anything meaningful. His gaze was taken away from the painting when he heard a noise, coming from the door at the far end of the room. He frowned slightly, but no foul or mistrusting idea’s came to his mind, unlike a few months ago where he probably would’ve taken out his scythe for less than that.  
“Eureka, is that you? Have you come back to make some sort of sarcastic comment or something?”  
He asked almost playfully. A voice answered, but it was not Eureka’s. It was a much lower, still female voice, but with much, much more hatred in it.  
“Eureka.”  
Pitch’s smile faded instantly. He hadn’t recognised the voice, but anyone who said that name with as much hatred as this one just did, could be capable of making him angry. He didn’t even have the time to get into combat position when a winged woman dressed in leather armour grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. The fact that he hadn’t been on his guard in such a long time had slightly slowed down his reflexes, and he didn’t free himself right away, unlike he usually would have. The small moment when he was stuck between the woman’s grasp gave him the opportunity to have a closer look at her, since her face was very close to his.  
She had long, blond hair and electric purple eyes, with red lips and clearly blushed cheeks. Usually, such a combination would’ve been judged to be beautiful by others, but the pure anger and hatred on the woman’s face ruined her beauty. Her wings were brown feathers, mixed together with dashes of blond and purple feathers. Her armour was leather, but covered up surprisingly little of her body. Her voice was also quite low for a woman.  
“You keep saying that name as if it means something Pitch. Should I be worried?”  
Pitch’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t recognise the woman, her voice, or her outfit, but he recognised that form of speech. That pattern, the spat that came along with every word destined for him… As he spoke, he noticed how little air he was getting, causing him to grab the woman’s arms.  
“Cupid?”  
“Oh, so you haven’t forgotten me. Good. I hope you also remember what I told you back then.”  
“That was different! I—”  
Pitch began, but Cupid brutally backslapped him with the back of her (armoured!) hand, and shut him right up.  
Pitch needed some time to recover, but frowned once he was completely conscious again. Why was he making excuses like this? Last time that Cupid confronted him, he simply laughed out loud and took out his scythe, no questions asked. Why was he defending himself with words, rather than to hit back?  
He got angry at this reflection, and summoned his scythe. He swung it at Cupid, who let go of the King of Nightmares in order to evade it. She stabilized her flight and laughed without joy.  
“There he is! There’s the Pitch I know!”  
Pitch was battle ready this time, he lifted his scythe, ready to attack and clearly threatening.  
“What do you want, Cupid?”  
“You know what I want. Do I really need to paint it out for you?”  
Pitch didn’t know what she meant. He still had his scythe up, although it didn’t seem to have an effect on Cupid, who simply set foot on the ground and sighed deeply as she rolled her eyes.  
“The girl. Eureka. Stay away from her.”  
“Why would I do that?”  
“Because, Pitch. Fear cannot be loved. Everyone knows that. Everyone, including the Legends, including the Guardians, hates fear. They hate you. What makes you think that anyone, let alone her, could see something in you?”  
Pitch’s scythe was slightly lowered when he heard those words. Clearly, he had heard them before but this time, this time, they hurt.  
“That is not my decision to make.”  
He said.  
“Yes it is. You need to push everyone away who comes too close. That’s what you’ve always done. And now that you’ve let someone close, look where it got you. You tried to make excuses, you didn’t fight. You were vulnerable.”  
“You caught me off guard! You haven’t visited me in centuries.”  
“Because I didn’t need to. But it looks like I have to knock some sense into you again.”  
She spat. This time, Pitch got angry and he held his scythe a little higher again.  
“I am perfectly capable of defending myself!”  
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But can she?”  
Cupid held up her hand, and a cloud of perfume (lavender?) formed into a representation of Eureka’s face.  
Pitch was boiling. A small part of him kind of wanted to know how surprised Cupid would be if she were to take on Eureka and find out that she is actually quite an opponent, but the majority of him just wanted to burry Cupid six feet deep under the ocean floor simply for suggesting an attack on Eureka. He swung his scythe with all his might at Cupid, but she evaded it again and laughed once more.  
“It’s even worse than I thought, Pitch! This time, you’re not just trying to seduce someone, you… Actually care about her.”  
The surprise in her voice was genuine. Pitch managed to hit her in the belly with the back end of his weapon while she was distracted by her own words, knocking her against one of the walls that (luckily) didn’t have a painting hanging on it. He put the black-sanded blade against her throat and hissed at her with golden eyes:  
“If you even think about going anywhere near her, I will skin you, do you hear me? Skin you!”  
He said, the anger almost visible in his words. Cupid answered with a smug smile.  
“I wouldn’t have to go near her if you just stayed away, Pitch. Your presence not just near her, but in her mind, it makes you dangerous for her. You need to forget about her, because it’s never going to happen.”  
“How would you know?!”  
“I’m Cupid, Pitch! I know.”  
Pitch paused at this. She was, indeed, Cupid. Could it be possible that she knew what was meant to be, and what wasn’t? And what if it was true? What is she was right? What if he put Eureka in danger? He didn’t have time to ask any more questions, since Cupid spoke first:  
“Tick, tock, Pitch. I will give you one week to get rid of her.”  
“And what if I don’t?”  
“Then I will take matters in my own hands.”  
“Why? She hasn’t done anything!”  
“No, but you have! And you need to learn that fear is something that cannot be loved, something that must always exist ALONE! And if you can’t realize that by yourself, then a painful memory of someone will remind you of that every day.”  
Pitch couldn’t answer, Cupid had already flown off in a few wingbeats. He lowered his scythe and when it touched the ground, it disassembled into his signature black sand. Pitch looked down to the floor, then around him and saw all the paintings. He sighed.  
What now?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I really appreciate the time you're taking.  
> If you have any suggestions for what should happen next, do let me know.


End file.
